Taxi
by Fritz Will Get You
Summary: When Daniel stumbles across Rorschach horribly injured after a midnight brawl, it's not a hard decision to bring his old partner home. But as wounds heal will Nite Owl let him leave with things unsaid? Horrible summary, Dan/Rorschach slash.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, hello everyone! I know it has been a LONG time since I updated, but in light of the recent Watchmen movie release I just had to post this._

_I want you to know that I have been a Watchmen fan long before the movie even was being thought into existence, so I will be doing this fic based solely on the comic, trying to stay in character as much as I can. _

_This was inspired because my friend and I have realized that in order to do a good slash fic for Watchmen, you have to take the chance yourself. This isn't going to be easy, but hey, at least it's fun. _

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Rainfall. The steady drumming of the falling rain pitter pattered patterns all over the city, attempting to wash away the dirt from the previous weeks, set the slate of the city clean again so the citizens could have a fresh start at living. The rain could wash the mud off your front steps, give the parched flowers new life, even cleanse the smoggy air if only for a night. It was almost as if society was getting another chance to redeem itself.

At least, in a perfect world it would be that way. In this reality it was no so.

The rain collected trash and filth and poured them into the gutters, polluting the rivers and poisoning the earth drop by drop. This rain drowned the plants and washed the nutrients away from the hardened soil. The air was heavy with the putrid steam that rose off of each filthy individual being soaked outside, the mud just caking onto their worn boots as they stumbled and swore around lit cigarettes. Taxis could not operate in this weather, and even if they could, everyone knew that New York City was the worst place for taxi service. New York City, wallowing in its grief and guilt and murder, was the worst place for anything.

A single faceless figure glowered at the washed city below him, gloved fingers tightening on the rough stone of a gargoyle's wing beside him for support. Heights were rarely an issue with such experience as he had, but one had to always remember the simple mishaps that could instantly bring an end to it all. It would be a shame to slip on the wet stone and plummet thirty stories to meet the pavement without a final goodbye.

Yet, despite the disgusting mess of a city squirming below, he felt at home. This was his place, the hellhole he had been born and where he would most likely die, fighting back the world until he too became part of the filth under his feet. Tonight would not be the night for his demise, however, because he could already see that he had work to do.

Thirty stories below, disguised in heavy shadow, the few lowlifes out in the rain were hard at work. As far as his unclouded eyes could see there were two dark figures creeping up on a third, smaller, one, totally unaware of the silent watcher from above.

Like every night before, he could feel the anticipation rising within him, muscles tightening and mind becoming sharper, any disillusions quickly cast into the fire that burned in his very being. It was as simple as breathing: where there was injustice, there was him, and everything else was irrelevant. All he lived for, existed for, was to be the barrier between good and evil, dark and light, black and white. There was no in between, not for this world.

There was no going back, no hesitation for him as he took out the grappling gun and fired across the gap between the buildings. Once secured, he took one look down, stood on the edge, paused for a second.... and jumped.

The trio scattered to the far sides of the alley, allowing the descending avenger to make the dramatic impact he more or less desired. Scaring the wits out of the criminals used to be fun, but now it was just another sign that, like everything else, what was once light in the world had been overshadowed by the rising filth that threatened to suffocate all who dared to hope.

To his left the woman screamed and raised her arms in defense as the muggers pulled their weapons on him, leaving any sense of honor back at home with their poor mothers. Not that it was a problem for him, oh no. There was no way the scum could touch him, the scourge of the underworld, not when he had his own skills to keep him alive. He almost pitied the poor fools, those who dared to act out against the moral judgments of humanity, almost felt sorry for the rapists and murders and politicians and whores who roamed the streets at night. Almost. Maybe in another world he could have felt compassion, but not now.

It was over before it even started, and without even looking at the woman he had saved Rorschach put his hands in his pockets and turned to leave. There was more work to do, never rest for those who sought to do right in this stinking world. His shoes brushed against a packet that had flown out of one of his victim's pockets and he crouched down, picking it up curiously.

It was a small, compact rectangle that was filled to burst with a familiar white powder that instantly set a fire to his soaked body. His mind whirling, Rorschach turned, ready to deliver the drug dealers an entirely new retribution that had nothing to do with the mugging he had mistaken the situation for.

"You bastard!" To his mild surprise the woman was aiming a gun at his tense form, the rain running off the familiar contours of the grappling mechanism attached to the end. One pull of the trigger and it would be lodged in his soft flesh, the rain sodden trench coat providing no protection for him whatsoever. A small flicker of fear coursed through him, cooling the pit of his stomach and making him freeze.

"That coulda been my money!" Her heavy mascara dragged sticky tracks down her cheeks as she sighted along the heavy tool turned weapon; even though she was weak there was no way she could miss at this distance. And yet, instead of the overwhelming fear clenching his mind he felt a certain calmness overtaking him.

Never compromise in the face of death. Never surrender. His body may be broken, but Justice never dies.

Rorschach didn't even feel the cold metal penetrate his skin, didn't notice the warm blood soaking his already bloodstained coat, didn't even think as he lunged at her, fingers closing around her neck. With an inhuman snarl he squeezed, rain and blood mixing with the mascara as her face lost whatever color life had given it. Finally her body stopped twitching under his, and with a small huff of air he let himself collapse against the brick wall, face upturned to the rain to let the blood wash off his spattered face.

How long did it take for the life to bleed out of him, he did not know. But slowly the buildings around him turned dark and swirled above him, mingling with the lightening skies but never mixing. It was like the world had taken on his face in his departure, and for the first time in a long time he felt himself smile....

Before the vision was complete, however, a dark form overtook him and suddenly the side of his neck was exposed to the cold, something warm pressing into his neck. With a strained groan he forced his mangled body to turn towards the shape, eyes struggling to focus on what could possibly not be there.

Yet it was, and the voice proved it.

"Damn it Rorschach, what have you done to yourself this time?" Daniel Dreiberg, an owl seemingly sent from heaven, crouched next to Rorschach in a bloody puddle, concerned gaze penetrating the spots washing Rorschach's vision.

"H-hello, D-Daniel." Rorschach's breath hitched in his throat, blood gurgling out the corner of his mouth. He tried to raise his arm but could hardly think. As if his old partner knew what he was thinking, Dan took his hands and held them, as if the small bit of contact could bring him back from the brink of death.

"Hey, don't give up on me. You're going to be fine... is that my grappling gun?" Dan's eyes widened and he ducked out of sight for only a second, but to Rorschach it was an eternity. Finally his friend's face swam back into view, pale but with that unmistakable gleam of determination in his eyes.

"I hate to tell you this, but the gun has slowed down the bleeding. You'll probably live, if I can get you some medical attention." An attempt of humor to calm the situation didn't work, but it seemed to be enough for Dan. With a slight sigh of disbelief of what he was about to do, Dan leaned down and slid his arms under his fallen partner, and with a gasp Rorschach felt his wound reopen in a blaze of pain, instantly covering him in an inky darkness, the terrified shout of Nite Owl ringing through his rain sodden mind....

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_Leave a comment if you want, I'll post new chapters as I go along._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey there, sorry for the delay. I actually had this typed out, but I kind of... well, I forgot that it was there. Sorry about that. _

_You'll be happy to know that I have already written some of the third chapter, but unfortunately school has kind of put a damper on my motivation to actually sit down and put it into the computer. I will do my best to be more punctual, and I dearly appreciate all of your support in this.  
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_Oh, and I can't tell you how excited I am for the movie. I bought the film companion today and was blown away by the pictures. Even if the movie is a flop, at least it will be visually astounding. :)_

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_It was all a haze of black and white and movement. And pain. Oh, there was so much pain. It filled him with fire, threatened to send him over the edge and keep him there, with no intent of release. Every breath, every heartbeat brought pain, and every thought was of death, pleading with his body to just give up and die so the pain would stop....

And suddenly the pain lessened, cooling to a bearable burn that ebbed from his mind and allowed some form of rational thought to sluggishly force its way into his head. Someone was holding him, moving his limp limbs, trying to coax life back into a body that just wanted to die. Who would possibly stop to help him he could not begin to comprehend, but suddenly a wave of exhaustion overtook him and forced him to shut down and sleep.

Awake again. The pain had come back, keeping him from fully surfacing, from fully being aware, and he hated it. If he could fully focus he would fight back the pain, bring it back under control and... and... he was gone again into the inviting oblivion that was becoming too familiar.

Finally. Fully awake. Aware. Rorschach could feel the difference this time, being fully awake, and instantly he brought himself into the present, forcing his body to focus to finally figure out what was going on. The past events were a jumbled mess that made his head ache, so instead he concentrated on the simple task of opening his eyes. To his general annoyance it was harder than he expected, and with a low groan he let his head fall to the side, trying to force unwilling limbs to move. It was like trying to force the knot tops to become peace loving pacifists with buzz cuts; it was not going to happen in any near future.

Something shifted to his left, and with a herculean effort Rorschach managed to force his eyes to open. Everything was fuzzy, out of focus, but that did nothing to hide the fact that his one time partner was leaning over him, concerned face just inches from his own.

Almost happy enough to smile, Rorschach used what was left of his energy to whisper, "Daniel."

It was all coming back now, the rooftop, the alley, the drug bust, the woman, the gun. And the concerned voice of Daniel as he promised to save his ex partner's life as he bled out all over the pavement. But how did he end up from the alley, nearly dead, to here, unquestionably alive?

For a few moments all they did was stare at each other, lost in thought. Then Dan coughed and said, "It's nice to see that you're really awake this time. The last few times you... well, it doesn't matter now." He smiled a tired smile and pulled back the sheets that were covering the fallen vigilante, studying the fresh white bandages that covered the scarred torso. It had hardly been a year since they had had their 'falling out' as it were, and already Dan could see that Rorschach had fallen far beyond his reach. Whatever normalcy this man had while they were still a team had been lost now, and that loss pained him as much as seeing the wounded before him.

Rorschach's silent stare was making him uncomfortable. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I stopped the bleeding and your internal injuries aren't as severe as I first thought. You'll have one hell of a scar, but at least you'll be alive to complain to me about it." He smiled a little and waited for a response. The masked man before him gave him none.

"In a week or two you should be able to move a little, albeit carefully... so, er, you're going to have to stay here for a while...." Dan pulled the sheets back up and waited. Rorschach simply nodded, settling back with a sigh, apparently too tired to either argue or agree. In less than a minute the silence was replaced with the familiar ragged breathing that signaled the return of the pain caused by the very tool that Dan had created for his once friend years ago. It sickened him to look at the bloodied grappling gun, but he couldn't bring himself to destroy it. At least, not when it was Rorschach's. Who knew, maybe the vigilante still wanted to keep it as a reminder of the irony.

Quietly he pulled out the medical kit he had kept at the ready and removed a syringe already filled with liquid. Dan was hesitant to use morphine on the man, not sure if it was a good idea considering the potential addictiveness of the painkiller, but when the man's pained cries became too much he gave in, just like he was giving in right now. In a minute Rorschach calmed down, relaxing into a heavily drugged sleep.

With a sigh Dan sat back and watched his partner sleep, inkblots lazily changing patterns over the blank face that was the only face he had ever known. It would seem to be odd that he had left the mask on, as the facial expressions would be easier to read than body language while under medical treatment, but he could not bring himself to break that barrier of actually removing the mask. Rorschach may be a crazed vigilante with little disregard to the social laws that governed everyone else, but there was still that unspoken trust he had once had with Dan, trust that he would never have to reveal what was under the mask, even though he had seen what was under the Nite Owl mask numerous times. And Dan respected that, no matter how tempting it was to rip off the mask and see who really did live under the perpetually shifting expanse of black and white.

When he was satisfied that Rorschach would not be getting up and leaving anytime soon Dan left his bedroom in favor of the kitchen, hoping to find something that would give him the energy to stay awake for the rest of the day. A late night visitation with Hollis followed by an early rescue of his horrifically injured comrade had left him with no sleep, and he had no intention of getting rest anytime in the near future until Rorschach was somewhat stable. Although what he had said to the masked vigilante was true about living through the injuries, he was not entirely optimistic that the recovery would be smooth. He was no doctor, although he had considerable medical skills, and could not predict all that could (and probably would) go wrong.

Absentmindedly he reached for the coffeepot and flicked it on, rummaging through the cupboards for the sugar cubes he favored. Before he could locate them, however, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. With a curse he fumbled for a flashlight, dropped it, cursed some more, then managed to find it an turn it on, shining the beam around the mess he had just created.

"Figures that Nite Owl can't even find his way around his own house in the dark." Dan muttered as he went to the fuse box. Nothing happened. The lights did not come back on, the power still out. Must have been from outside. Carefully he made the trip down to the cellar to retrieve his goggles, ignoring the empty suit hanging before him. It had been a while since he went down there, and even longer since he had put on the suit to relive the glory days. Now was not the time to reminisce. The goggles would make it easier to see than the crummy flashlight could, and if the power stayed out he had a feeling that he would need things to be as easy as they could get. On his way back to the bedroom he glanced out the window, and to his surprise it was snowing heavily, blanking out everything into an eye watering expanse that he could not look at for long. He continued to the bedroom, a little more at ease knowing what caused the power outage.

To his mild relief Rorschach was exactly as he had left him: out cold and breathing quietly and evenly. For a while Dan just stood there, watching the rise and fall of his comrade's chest, but then he noticed something that greatly disturbed him. Watching carefully he could see the man's breath form in the air above the mask, little clouds that baffled Dan until he realized that he could see his own breath as well.

With a sinking feeling he realized that with the power out, the heat was out as well, and with the temperatures dropping outside the heat inside would quickly dissipate. Already he could see Rorschach start to shiver. Hurriedly Daniel gathered all the blankets he could find, covering his partner, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough. Nite Owl would have to think of something, and fast, if Rorschach was to survive.

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_Heh, sorry to leave you with that, but I have to go get in some shut eye before I fall asleep at the keyboard. If only they made keyboards comfortable...._

_Don't forget to tell me what you think!  
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	3. Chapter 3

_Hello again, I hope you haven't exploded with suspense since the last chapter. I'm sorry that there was such a delay, but I am fighting a nasty cold and am forcing myself to update this before my inbox explodes with messages from you guys telling me to hurry up and put the next chapter. Don't get me wrong, I'm super happy that you all want more, it's just I feel bad that I couldn't update sooner. _

_Despite this obnoxious cold, however, I will say that I forced myself to finally go and see the Watchmen movie. And... despite my previous misgivings, I was blown away. Jackie Earle Haley did a fantastic job as Rorschach, so good that I don't think I can imagine the character being portrayed by anyone else. :D_

_So with that in mind, I want to say that if you have not read the comic, you should. But if you haven't, this story will still make sense. I forgot to mention that this is set before the death of the Comedian but after the forced retirement of the superheroes. Hopefully things weren't too confusing for you guys._

_Oh, and I don't own any of this, you should know that by now. ;) Enjoy!  
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As he stared at the shivering figure huddled before him, Dan Dreiberg wondered what kind of twisted fate possessed him and placed him into situations like this. It wasn't as if he actively sought out the weirdness of the world and took it in, it always seemed to show up at his doorstep, inviting itself in before he could shut it out. Of course, it could have been attributed to the fact that he used to be a costumed vigilante for a few years, but those years were past, and all he had to look forward to was sitting on the couch, eating take out Tandoori, and watching the world go on by.

With a shuddering cough Rorschach pulled the blankets tighter around his small frame, inkblots shifting sluggishly in the cold air. No matter how many blankets Dan piled on it would only get colder. What he needed were some hot water bottles or something, anything that gave off heat instead of trying to keep it in. But with the power out all Dan could get was cold water, and the heaters wouldn't be on for a long, long time. Using Archie's flamethrower to make a fire only briefly crossed his mind as he wandered from rational thought. What else gave off heat that he could use to keep Rorschach from freezing?

As soon as he entertained the question he had the answer, but if it was the right one Dan wasn't all that positive would work. Sure, they had been pretty good friends at a time, been invaluable partners, but something told Dan that Rorschach would not appreciate a friendly cuddle with Nite Owl, even if it was in his best interests.

It was the only solution he could think of though, and with a little reluctance he approached the bed, careful not to disturb the fitfully sleeping man until it was absolutely necessary. Over the years it had become clear to the Dan that Rorschach was as far from touchy feely as one could get, almost avoiding physical contact unless it was to take down an opposing thug, break a few fingers, or (in those rare instances) lend Nite Owl a helping hand in between late night brawls. Rorschach was probably the only man in New York who remained uninterested in the prostitutes that lined the gaudy streets at night, able to shrug them all off with a hunch of his shoulders and a suffocating air of contempt. Dan on the other hand felt rather embarrassed for them all and tried not to become involved, insisting that when he finally found the girl of his dreams it would be all that he needed. All that he would ever need....

Rorschach shivered again and attempted to curl into a ball, but let out a low groan of pain and stopped, shivers aggravating the injury more than the sudden movement. Dan took the opportunity to pull back the covers and slip in beside the vigilante, carefully getting as close as he could to the shivering body without actually being a disturbance. No matter how cautious he had been, however, it wasn't enough. Instantly Rorschach went still, body tensing enough to make Dan wince.

"Daniel, what are you doing?" It was a huge effort to talk, and even more of an effort for him to roll onto his side, away from the sudden intrusion into his cold, painful world.

Dan tried to sound soothing. "Shhh. It's nothing, Rorschach. Go back to sleep."

"Don't need you. Fine like this." Rorschach's voice was strained, but heavily laced with dislike.

"We both know that's bullshit. You know as well as I do that the only way you're going to stay warm is like this." It was all Dan could do to keep himself from wrapping his arms around his partner, to stop the shivering and make him see that this was the way to get better.

"Don't want help. Rather be alone. Cold."

"I know that. But since I found you in that alley it's my responsibility to bring you back to health, and that's what I intend to do." Dan pulled the covers up over them both, signaling that the conversation was over, but Rorschach was having none of it. Painfully he drew himself up in the bed, supporting his battered body on his aching arms. When the room stopped spinning he turned to the dark lump that was his 'helpful' partner and spoke with his familiar distaste:

"Daniel, warning once."

Daniel sighed. "Just lay down and go to sleep."

"Do not want to hurt you."

"Hurt me? You can hardly move, let alone cause me any har-" Dan was cut off by a sudden sickening crunch of his nose. Howling in surprise and pain he fell off the bed, hands flying to his nose to staunch the blood flow. Rorschach withdrew his fist and fell heavily onto his side, shivering and wheezing as he stubbornly held onto consciousness. The drugs were doing their job of reducing the pain, but the sudden stress he had put on his weak body was nearly too much for him to handle.

Daniel stared at him from the floor, mouth agape. "You... you hit me. You actually hit me."

"W-warned you."

"Yeah, well, now I'm giving you a warning. Just because I feel like taking care of you doesn't mean we're best friends anymore." He got into the bed again, ignoring the weakening protests as he roughly rolled Rorschach onto his side. "Try something like that again and I'll leave you out in the snow."

It was uncertain if drugs were taking affect again or it was too much effort to throw another punch, but as soon as the bed grew warm Rorschach fell into a deep sleep, leaving Dan to contemplate the day's events in silence.

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Dan awoke to the steady breathing of his friend, and for a moment he was completely confused. Where was he? Who was in bed with him? And why did his nose hurt so much?

Then it all came back, and for a panicked moment he expected to be hit again, but all Rorschach did was give a small yawn and settle closer to his improvised heater, resting his forehead against Daniel's chest as he fell back asleep.

"Good morning to you too." Daniel whispered with a smile, feeling completely at peace. He had to hand it to Rorschach to be cute only when unconscious. The fact that he even considered Rorschach to be cute at all somewhat disturbed him, but as he held the sleeping vigilante in his arms he could not help but consider their present situation. Sure, Rorschach wasn't the ideal subject for his growing need for companionship, but then again Dan didn't feel like he had a choice in the matter.

As he lay there, arm casually draped over the other occupant of the bed, he let his mind wander to his previous love affairs, mainly the one time affair with the masked woman called the Twilight Lady. She was a very strange, yet very attractive woman... he remembered their few nightly excursions together. It was mostly for the thrill of it, being two masked vigilantes sneaking around in the night, and both knew that the situation would not last forever. Even though it was a doomed relationship Dan could still fondly recall the first time he took her into the Owlship and showed her the sights from his lonely point of view, their first kiss under the stars....

In his arms Rorschach muttered something in his sleep and unconsciously pressed closer to Daniel for warmth, the top of his head butting into Dan's chin. The sudden contact sent shivers across his skin, and for a moment Daniel wondered what it would feel like to lock lips with a different sort of masked avenger. Rorschach had always been sort of vague about any kind of previous relationships and Dan was too polite to pry, sensing a lot of hurt buried in the past. He knew his own sort of pain in having meaningful companionships wither out over time, especially when he was masquerading as Nite Owl. Being in a normal relationship just didn't excite him as much as taking down criminals in the night as the Nite Owl. At least the Twilight Lady understood that to an extent.

Again Rorschach muttered in his sleep, and again he rubbed up against Daniel as he tried to absorb all his precious body heat. Another shiver traveled down Dan's spine, and for an instant he felt disgusted with himself. This was Rorschach, for God's sake! This wasn't some attraction between him and some woman who liked him for his schoolboyish charm, this was a cold hearted fiend of the underworld. This was a man who could make an entire room confess to a murder with just a casual snap of a few fingers.

This was Rorschach....

Daniel found himself looking down at the ever shifting mask, fingers lightly brushing against the dark patterns, feeling the face hidden underneath. This chance would only come once, and the knowledge forced his fingers down to the edge of the mask, made him carefully pull up the fabric to expose the slightly parted lips of his former partner. Not revealing any more than necessary Dan stopped, watching as Rorschach breathed calmly and steadily, even as Dan's heart pounded between them. It was now or never, and he didn't think he could handle never at this point.

Gently, almost tenderly Dan tilted his partner's face towards his own, careful not to disturb his steady slumber. This would be his only chance, Daniel Dreiberg knew. The only chance. And he took it.

As if he were touching the most fragile thing on earth Daniel touched his lips to Rorschach's, hardly daring to move a muscle in case his partner woke up. To his surprise the vigilante's mouth parted in response, and Dan deepened the kiss, closing his eyes to savor the moment. They lay side by side, lips pressed together, only one fully aware of what was going on. Dan gently held the side of Rorschach's face with one hand while the other lightly pulled the smaller body closer to him in an attempt to deepen the sensations that were springing up between the two, to make this moment last forever-

Until Rorschach's body seized, eyes flying open behind the mask, shattering whatever was going on between them. "Daniel?"

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_And.... I leave it here. Yes, feel free to tell me how much you hate me, because I know that this is an AWFUL place to end this chapter. As soon as I'm better I'll update, I promise!  
_

_PS: I re uploaded this chapter because I noticed some errors that were bugging me. Nothing noticeable, so don't worry. Sorry if it causes problems anyways.  
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_Don't forget to review, because that is the only way I know that you guys want me to continue the story! :)  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey, I just want you to know I'm feeling a helluva lot better, and I worship you reviewers for putting up with my grouchyness while I was ill. Sorry for being somewhat of a pain in the rear, I'll do my best to be nicer in the future, I promise!_

_Here we go, I don't own any of this, I don't even have the comic anymore since I lent it out to a friend..._

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Upon hearing Rorschach's unexpected voice Dan broke away from the kiss, trying to cover up what he had just done. What was it that he had just done? What the hell had possessed him to... to do _that? _Had he lost his mind? If Rorschach didn't break all the bones in his body for this, he would be supremely surprised.

"Daniel? What were you doing?" Rorschach's voice was unreadable, unreadable as the pattern that currently occupied the scrunched up mask. He raised a steady hand to the exposed part of his face, a barely perceptible frown occupying his uncovered mouth. For a long, painful moment nothing was said between them, then Rorschach pulled the mask down, covering his face once more.

"Rorschach, I can explain." Daniel quickly got out of the bed, giving the other man some space. "I- I just got a little carried away." The words were coming out all wrong, but how could he really say what he was thinking? What _was _he thinking?

Rorschach was sitting up again, apparently finding strength in whatever hidden fury he had at waking up to find his partner kissing him against his will. It was so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, and the urge to rip off the taunting black and white was overwhelming. But even going near the masked vigilante right now was out of the question. Not that Dan was afraid of being attacked (even though his nose still ached), but he was more afraid of Rorschach hurting himself in the process.

"Hurm. Call that carried away. Funny." Rorschach's breath hitched as he sat up all the way, injury straining under the bandages. "Never took you as homosexual, Daniel."

"No, Rorschach, I'm not, it was just a... just a..." What was it, exactly? "I was worried about you."

"Worried I wasn't breathing? Trying mouth to mouth?" The sarcasm was not lost under the furiously shifting ink.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way. I promise it won't happen again. I was... I was just tired. And you were cold, and I wanted to... wanted to...." Again, Daniel could not find words to express what he had been thinking, especially when he could not understand what he had been thinking himself.

"Appreciate concern, Daniel. But do not need your help anymore." With painstaking effort Rorschach turned his trembling body so his bare feet touched the floor, keeping his back to Dreiberg. Despite the freezing temperature of the room a light sheen of sweat coated his shoulders, only a spare pair of oversized pajama pants providing him any decency. They both knew that Rorschach would not stand a chance of survival in the first five minutes of being exposed to the cold, but they also knew that there was going to be nothing stopping him from leaving either.

Both men sat in silence, both waiting for something to be said. It was cold, it was dark, and it was miserable, but neither could think of anymore to say. What could be said? Dan had crossed a line, a line that had suddenly turned into a chasm that threatened to burn between them for the rest of their lives. Of course, Rorschach's life had been threatened to end just recently. Was that why Dan had felt the way he did? No. He had a feeling that whatever he had acted upon lingered in the past, when they were still partners. This was not just a recent thing, no matter how hard he would try to deny it.

Rorschach still hadn't moved, body still except for the occasional suppressed shiver. It was as if he had become frozen in the chilled air. His lips still tingled from the unexpected contact, and not for the first time he was thankful for the mask that Daniel could not easily interpret. As he sat there his stomach twisted with disgust. He would expect anyone on the street to take advantage of him in this condition, but _Daniel? _Clearly the man was just as good at deception as Rorschach himself was, and that thought disturbed him.

"Thought you were a friend, Daniel." Rorschach said quietly, not turning around. He could already picture Daniel's face twisting with troublesome emotions, his hands restlessly fidgeting with the goggles he had ripped off his eyes during the confusion. What had made the fearless Nite Owl go so... so soft?

No. Daniel wasn't Nite Owl anymore. Whatever had happened since the Keene Act had left Nite Owl a soft, pathetic whimpering shell of what he used to be. If this was what was left of the masked heroes that used to stand for what Rorschach stood for, then there was no use staying put and succumbing to it too. While he was still breathing, all that was wrong in the world would eventually suffocate. If Nite Owl had lost sight of that then Rorschach would be damned if he would linger.

Behind him Daniel muttered something intelligible. Rorschach took no notice, forcing his unwilling body to stand and lurch towards the door. He would not stay here any longer, not while Daniel was apparently waiting to take advantage of him in his weakened condition. With each step the pain escalated, making him break out into a cold sweat all over again, and he bit back the aggravated groan that was dying to be released. No. He was not going to let this injury get the best of him. No time to rest, not when there was so much to do. New York never slept, crime never took a breather, and the injustice that lingered in every dark corner of the world certainly never cried under the covers when things got a little painful.

Then again, usually the scum of the earth managed to avoid being shot with their own grappling guns and left for dead in dark alleys so their retired allies could come out of the closet to save them. This rambling thought was a welcome distraction from the nearly unbearable agony his injury was subjecting him to, but it wasn't enough to substitute this disturbing reality. Immediately he knew that there was no way he could make it out the door without blacking out again, so with an irritated sigh he turned back to face the room he was so eager to leave. Rorschach may have been relentless, but he wasn't stupid.

To his disgust Daniel was still sitting where he had left him, face in his hands like he had lost all control of himself. Of course, Rorschach mused, that could very well be the case, what with this new unpleasant side that had surfaced overnight. Suddenly an unpleasant tremor traveled its way up his body, forcing him to sit on the bed again before he collapsed. Daniel did not move but merely muttered again. With another painful sigh of irritation Rorschach leaned over and halfheartedly slapped the man, putting enough force for it to sting but not enough to cause any damage. If he really wanted to he could have done some harm, but at this point he was in no mood to exert himself any more than necessary.

"Pull yourself together and stop whimpering like a sullen child. Will need composure if you want me to live." Rorschach could not believe that he was going to give in and stay, but he knew that if he didn't he would not survive. Hopefully whatever possessed his former partner to be so... so _wrong _had passed, leaving it a bad stain on their already strained relationship.

"Rorschach, I promise it will never happen again." Daniel murmured, looking up from his hands but unable to let his eyes linger on the black and white mask staring at him.

"No. It won't. Next time I will give no warning." There was no humor in his voice, and they both knew that this time, Rorschach would not hold back in his retribution just because Daniel had once been a valuable ally in his never ending campaign to bring the criminal underworld to its knees.

Daniel inhaled shakily and pinched the bridge of his nose, putting his ridiculous goggles on again so he could see better. He wouldn't admit that it also made him feel a little less vulnerable and a little more in control of a situation rapidly spiraling out of control. The fact that Rorschach hadn't left yet or tried to kill him was surprising, but he chalked it up to the vigilante's less than healthy condition and accepted it. It was his responsibility to make up for what he had done by helping the recovery process along while remaining as detached as possible.

How did Rorschach manage to appear so damned _calm _when his own emotions were in a turmoil? Daniel glanced at the bed and was not surprised to see that Rorschach was still sitting up in it, refusing to give into his exhaustion until he was safely alone. He didn't blame the man; if he had awoken to find the one person he trusted to be... to be doing _that _to him, he would feel the same way. Or would he?

"Aw, hell." Daniel shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. It was pointless. The only way he could ever clear his head was when he was either talking with Hollis or working on some worthless attempt to upgrade Archie. Neither was an option for him right now, not when he was being forced to focus on the task at hand. "You need new bandages. I'll... I'll be right back."

Before Rorschach could give a response Daniel left the room. With a sigh of relief that he did not know he had been holding Rorschach settled back against the pillows, lightly touching the bloodstained bandages. He did not mention the fact that the bandages and other medical supplies were right next to the bed where Daniel had first sewed him up, needing a moment to be alone.

Truth be told, a deep down part of him was terrified. Suddenly everything he had thought was true about Daniel had been flipped upside down, and it was all he could do to keep himself still. Repeatedly he reminded himself that as soon as he could make it out of the room he would leave the house entirely, going back to the familiar patterns of the world he completely understood. It may be a grim, desolate world, but it was one he was comfortable with. This was one situation Rorschach did not want to investigate further.

Before too long Daniel was back, looking remarkably more in control of himself than before, and immediately set about to administering another small dose of medicine before Rorschach could even think about asking for it. Neither said a word, and an uncomfortable silence descended between them. Daniel decided that the best thing to do was to just go as quickly as possible and then leave him alone again, since that was what he wanted most right now.

Rorschach let out a small groan of discomfort as the bandages were peeled away from the wound, but the painkillers were taking effect and he settled down again, reverting back to only being tense out of distrust instead of pain. The wound had been reopened in his attempt to leave, but for now they could forgo the stitching if no more trauma was applied. And, since Rorschach had already been traumatized once this night, what else could possibly aggravate the wound any further?

Quickly Daniel redressed the wound and pulled the blankets up again, noticing that Rorschach was shivering again but knowing that there was no way in hell that he could try the body heat trick again. They would both just have to sit the cold out until the power came back on again, no matter how dangerous to Rorschach's suddenly fragile condition that could be.

With a mumbled reassurance that he would be around if anything was needed Daniel left, closing the door behind him. After a few minutes of staring at the door Rorschach allowed himself to settle underneath the blankets, curling up in a ball to will the ever present darkness to claim him. It did not come until hours had passed, and even then he slept fitfully. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Okay, so there you go. Sorry that there's not really much action going on, but I ran through every scenario I could think of (ranging from Rorschach kicking Daniel's ass to the two realizing their total love for each other and taking it a step further) and decided that this, in my eyes, would be the more appropriate response due to Rorschach's current condition and Daniel's somewhat mental instability at the moment.. Argue if you will, but I'm sticking by it, dangit! :)_

_Anyways, thank you for your support, and I will try to update as soon as I can, but it will be another day or two for me to collect my thoughts and type it out. Being sick sucks. Don't forget to review so I know you want to read more (and if you want to share any thoughts)._


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello again, I hope that you all haven't gotten too antsy waiting for this chapter. All credit for this update must go to Calliope, who kept nagging at me until I finally sat down and typed this out. She also helped me with the ideas for this chapter, which was incredibly difficult for me to write, for whatever reason that may be._

_This is a long transition chapter so bear with me. But it needs to be put in before we can all move on to the 'slash' part of this fic, which I know is what you are all waiting for. ;)_

_I don't own anything but my comics and a Rorschach figurine, so let's just move onto the story!_

* * *

There he was again, hesitating to step forward into the room. It had been hours since Rorschach had finally fallen asleep, and both times Daniel had come to crack open the door and check on his charge he had been shivering, arms wrapped around his battered body as if it would ward off the cold. It was slightly pitiful and very saddening to see him so... vulnerable. So alone. It was as if all that the world had done to him was now cracking his composure and Dan was being offered a glimpse of who Rorschach used to be, piece by piece. He wasn't sure if he could handle what was being revealed. Then again, he wasn't sure if he could even handle being in the same room anymore, seeing as he hesitated to go past the doorway.

Eventually his concern for Rorschach won out over his sudden discomfort. With a sigh Daniel crossed the threshold, holding the heavy owlsuit in his arms. It was the one that he wore when the streets froze over and temperatures threatened him in his regular suit. With this on he was always warm and comfortable, hardly noticing the cold nights through the many layers of insulation the cape provided. If anything could keep his partner from freezing in the powerless room it was this. For a moment he just stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of the blankets that currently buried Rorschach. It was almost as if he could imagine a maskless, normal man taking a nap under those blankets instead of what reality was really showing him. A man that, until recently, gave Daniel every right to view as simply an ex-partner and nothing else.

Now he could feel his heart beating faster every time he drew closer to the sleeping man, his stomach twisting every time his thoughts turned to his patient, and for the life of him he could not understand why. Something was different this time between them. Something that had been lurking in the back of his mind for years now had suddenly decided to surface, forcing him into a position he wasn't sure he could back off from. Then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go back to the way it was.

Silently he stepped up to the bed, listening to the shaky breathing emanating from under the mask. It was all he could to do keep his hands off of the man as he pulled back the blankets. Hopefully it would be enough to just drape the cloak over him like another cover; it was all that he had left to keep him warm. As soon as the cold air hit his skin Rorschach's body tensed, breath immediately changing pace.

"Daniel?" Again, Rorschach sounded so threatened it made Dan wince.

"I'm just putting another blanket on you. It's, uh, it's not anything else. I promise." He wasn't sure why he was whispering, since it was just the two of them, but he felt like he had to be as quiet as he could.

Rorschach was silent and remained still as Dan draped the owlsuit over him. It was easy to recognize what it was that was covering him, and in his half delirious state he almost smiled. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that having Dan standing over him made him so tense it hurt he would be slightly pleased to finally feel some warmth sink into his chilled skin. Instead he simply curled in on himself even more, drawing the suit tightly to his body. It was an obvious attempt to keep out the cold, but Dan could tell that it was also tell that it was another way of keeping something between them. Between everyone.

The silence pressed around the two, forcing Daniel to speak whatever came first to mind. "Rorschach, do you have anyone... you know, waiting for you? I mean, is there anybody who.."

"Who will notice absence? No." That was all he said, resuming his silence once more. It wasn't surprising that Rorschach didn't have a family to go home to. Dan didn't, and it occurred to him that none of the other masked avengers did either. The Comedian, Ozymandias, the first and second Nite Owls and Rorschach had no families of their own, no wives to go home to or children to raise. Dr. Manhattan and Silk Spectre II had to find that kind of bond with each other, within their own messed up lives. No one had a 'normal' companion, not even the first Silk Spectre. Her divorce indicated that they would never truly find a 'normal' spouse or family of their own. In the end all they had were each other. With a fresh wave of guilt Dan realized that he was the only link Rorschach would ever have to any kind of friendship, that Nite Owl was as close to family as he would ever come to. Now it was tainted, possibly destroyed in a foolish indulgence in stupid emotions. What had he done?

Awkwardly Dan gathered his depressing thoughts and left Rorschach to his silence once more, biting back the urge to tell the one he cared so much about that he was sorry that he had broken that trust, and how much he wished he could put things right again. If only he knew what was going on behind the black and white.

* * *

It had been several days since the power flickered back on, but it still took another day for the hot water to finally come back. As soon as Daniel was sure that the hot water wasn't going to be interrupted by random unpleasant spurts of freezing water, the retired crimefighter set about to a task that was already threatening to kill his carefully guarded composure. He hadn't said anything about it since finding the man unconscious in the rain. It didn't even cross his mind while laying in bed, face pressed up to the other, or while forcing him under the warm snow suit. It hadn't bothered him during any bandage change. Hell, it wasn't even in his mind until now, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. In short, Rorschach needed a wash, and no amount of threats were going to put Daniel off of this mission.

It was as if Rorschach had suddenly gained the ability to read minds when Dan entered the room, because as soon as the door was open he was sitting up in the bed, arms crossed protectively over his chest, mask shifting patterns almost furiously. Daniel took a deep breath through his mouth.

"Rorschach, for the sake of your injuries, you need to take a bath." If the man hadn't been on his deathbed a few days ago the situation would have been ridiculous, but nobody was laughing.

To his complete surprise Rorschach nodded almost wearily and lowered his guard a little. "Yes. But alone, Daniel." There was that warning tone, the one that instantly made Dan feel guilty all over again.

"Of course." He said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. "Uh, well, it's ready whenever you are... if you need anything, I'll be right outside." There was no reply when he left the room.

It took him a good ten minutes to do so but finally Rorschach found himself staring at the steam rising from the tub, one hand resting on the sink for support. It hadn't surprised him that Daniel would say something about his hygiene (he wasn't oblivious to the fact that he had a distinctive scent about him), but he was wary of stripping off his clothes in this somewhat unfamiliar setting. His apprehension of being... taken again was finally settling down, since Daniel hardly even set foot in the room anymore unless it was to check on his patient, but that didn't mean he was still cautious. Finally his aching body demanded to be soaked in the water, so with a small sigh he stripped off his sweat stained clothes and settled in the warm water, keeping the mask on for a moment longer.

Never had he fully removed his mask under this roof and he certainly had never revealed what was under it to Nite Owl when they were partners. But every inch of his skin was begging to be cleaned, meaning that he had to risk it and take everything off. It wouldn't have to be long without. Just long enough to cleanse the weakness from his skin, give Daniel no reason to complain. Of course, Daniel was the only one he would actually take a bath for due to his complaint.

In fact, there were a lot of things that he would rarely do for anyone else except Daniel, Rorschach thought as he submerged, letting the water silence his thoughts. It was utterly peaceful, being underwater, so calm and clear. If only the world would be that way instead of being continuously covered in a fog, parting only for those that could see the way already. Right now he was stumbling blindly into the darkness with no moments of clarity to guide him. But even brief bouts of clarity could be eternally suffocating. He lifted his head out of the water, taking a slow, deep breath. Water streamed down over his face, reminding him of one of the rare times he had seen tears falling from Nite Owl's eyes.

_It was before his retirement, before Dan had gone soft, back when they were partners. They had been infiltrating another drug dealer's den, beating punks senseless left and right, and it was obvious that the caped crime fighter was becoming tired. Tired of taking down thugs with powder on their lips and need marks tattooing their arms, tired of night after night of finding people mugged in the alleys for what little change they had in their pockets. Nite Owl was beginning to tire of the endless cycle, and Rorschach could see the tension building in his partner with each punch thrown. They were finished when they spotted her tossed away in the corner like a used rag doll, a broken toy that the crackheads were bored with and didn't want anymore._

_Nite Owl had seen sights worse than this one before, but for some reason it all snapped. With a sob of horror he had fallen to his knees, fingers hesitating just inches from the bloody, bruised skin. For the longest time he just sat there, lost in his own thoughts. Rorschach could feel his own stomach turn at the scene, images of a different night playing through his mind like a movie he could not stop. _

_Finally Nite Owl spoke. "Damn, Rorschach, why? Why did they do this?"_

"_Because they are weak. Immoral. Have lost all mercy in drugs and selfish indulgence. Do not care for anything but their own disgusting existence." Rorschach's voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. He was beyond feeling anything anymore in this dark world since he had become Rorschach._

_Nite Owl's voice, on the other hand, was thick with emotion. "Christ, she was just a child." _

"_Yes."_

"_Just... I don't... what could make someone do this? How could a human do that?" Nite Owl looked up at his partner, his friend, tears shining on his face, begging to be told the answer like a child begging a parent._

_Rorschach put his hands in his pockets, a black and white mask the only comfort he could give anymore. "Not men, Daniel. Animals. Not men anymore. Low as dogs. Not fit to live. Must be punished, must be put down. Cannot be allowed to exist. That is why we are here."_

_And for that brief, horrifying moment, Nite Owl had understood. For a moment he had understood what it was that had changed Rorschach that night the Roche girl had gone missing, what had turned a quiet, grim man into a full blown vigilante set on eliminating everything that was wrong in the world, even if it meant the end of it all._

Any normal man would have given up and gone home after that night, but not Daniel. He wasn't weak back then. Even though he lost the understanding he still felt the drive to deliver justice and kept at it, even when they broke apart. Up until the retirement he had still been trying to make the world a better place. Dan was more upset with the split than he had been. Of course, that was now more obvious with the fact that he had more than just friendly interests towards his ex-partner, Rorschach mused, feeling a faint twinge on his lips. How could he have been so oblivious?

Clearly it had been his trust in the man clouding his judgment. It had been the first time that anyone wanted to be around him longer than a few minutes, the first time someone had shared his vision of a world without human grime clogging the gears that ran it. Some had called it unrealistic, but they didn't understand that this was not a question of suddenly wanting to make a difference or just ignoring it. They had no choice in the matter; they _had _to go out at night, _had _to clean up this decrepit world they lived in. There was no other way to exist. And instead of shunning the call to action Daniel had accepted it, even seeking out a team up with a man who was always alone.

Kovacs, not Rorschach, had felt a little surge of happiness at the unexpected friendship. The nights were something to look forward to for once. Even if at first he had viewed the man who had dubbed himself "Nite Owl" a little strange it quickly became apparent that they were meant to work together, as if some sort of fate had drawn them both into an unstoppable team. Of course, now Rorschach knew better than that. He had seen what the world was really like under its ill fitting mask of deceit. There was no such thing as fate. It had only been a well worked coincidence. Still, he remembered their nights together fondly....

With a grunt of pain he shifted in the water, trying to alleviate the dull ache in his abdomen that constantly served as a reminder that, despite all of his understandings, he was still human. No matter what face he had on he was still subject to pain and everyday weaknesses. Kovacs was not free from lust or fear. Kovacs had to hide behind a face that did not allow the grey areas of immorality to seep into his mind. Kovacs was not Rorschach.

For a while he simply soaked in the warm water, content to allow himself a rare moment of peace. Despite the underlying anxiety of having his true face lying on the tile floor instead of covering his head he still felt less exposed somehow, less out in the open. Not that Rorschach was about to let Daniel see him like this. It had been Nite Owl's own decision to reveal himself as Daniel Dreiberg to Rorschach, but if he had been hoping to witness a similar unmasking he had been sorely disappointed. Even if he trusted Daniel he could not remove his face, and if he had wanted to earlier it certainly wasn't going to happen after recent events.

And yet, were Daniel's actions really as awful as he was making them out to be? Immediately his mind said yes, but there was a small part of him that refused to look away from their past history together. They were friends. Was that rare friendship going to be tainted by a single unexpected kiss?

Then there was the horrifying fact that he had refused to admit until now: not every part of him had fought against it. Deep down he knew that while he had been upset, he had also been receptive. Rorschach could feel the cold disgust settle in the pit of his stomach as he refused to admit that he had felt a small flicker of pleasure at waking up in Daniel's arms, lips pressed to the other. It was disgusting. Weak. Was not Rorschach at all. Kovacs, whether he liked it or not, was still there.

With a grunt of pain Rorschach pulled himself out of the bathtub, trying to push the unwanted thoughts out of his mind. As he wrapped a towel around himself he stared at the fogged up mirror, not wanting to clear the condensation to look at his face. It wasn't his true face. He did not care to see Kovacs, did not want to see the weakness that lingered in those eyes. Did not want to let the dirty feelings to come to the surface and taint who he was: Rorschach. But could he stop it?

His stomach was throbbing again as he reached down to pick up the mask that lay discarded on the floor, reminding him that while his mind may be ready to go back out into the night, his body was far from ready. As he gingerly straightened he looked in the mirror again, glancing at the blurred world reflected back at him. He could barely make out the features he did not want to see, and his hair stood up on end, a blazing orange that would be recognizable anywhere. And over his bare shoulder... another familiar form, standing in the open doorway for who knew how long.

Without even pausing to think Rorschach pulled the black and white skin over his head before turning around with a furious snarl. "How long have you been watching?"

Dan was visibly startled, eyes immediately flickering from the fogged up mirror to the masked face before him. He hadn't seen anything except for the red hair (which was a surprise in itself: for some reason he had always envisioned Rorschach as being brunette like himself) and a blurred outline of a face with hints of dark eyes set in pale skin. It was almost disturbing, thinking about how close he had been to seeing his partner's face, how close he had been to finally realizing what was under the mask that was all he identified as Rorschach. At first he couldn't speak, eyes glued to the familiar shifting mass of black and white.

"I just opened the door. Rorschach, I promise that I didn't see anything. I-"

"Stop. Get out." The words were quiet, but they hurt more than any physical blow could.

Dan knew that it was better to leave than to stand and fight, not when Rorschach was like this. The paranoia of someone possibly seeing his face would cloud everything else, making him deaf to whatever claim Dan made to prove otherwise. It was better just to go and wait for him to calm down and handle things his own way, whether it be through more suffering silence or an outburst of violence and words. Either way Daniel left Rorschach alone once more, all alone with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and a mask over his face.

It seemed like an eternity before Rorschach entered the bedroom, but as soon as the smaller man made his presence known Daniel sat up in bed, eyes drifting over the pajama clad vigilante before settling on the mask that was pulled up over the bridge of his nose. Neither said a word as Rorschach came closer until he was standing next to the bed, arms hanging loosely by his side. Almost absently Dan noticed that the man was clean shaven. Whatever Rorschach wanted to say was buried deep, too deep to say out loud, so all he did was sit down on the unoccupied side of the bed and curl on his side, mouth turned down in a small frown. Dan did not rise but sat still, wondering what he was supposed to do. Then Rorschach spoke.

"Daniel?"

"Yes?" Dan could hardly breathe.

Rorschach's voice sounded tired, but it also had a hint of something Daniel had never head before. "Trust you not to tell anyone about face."

"Of course. I... I won't say anything." And with that said between them the silence returned, but it was of a different sort, one less tense than before. With a small smile Dan stood, tugging the blankets up over his friend before leaving the room.

With a soft sigh Rorschach pulled the blankets around him, fighting back to the urge to let out a groan. As much as every part of him hated to admit it, he could not let this friendship go. He had to forgive, had to trust Daniel, and move on. There wasn't any other way. No matter how hard it was for him to do so, Rorschach just could not let himself end it. He had to stay.

* * *

_Author's note: Well, there you have it. Sorry it took so long to update, but this transition was rather difficult for me. Oh, and I have absolutely nothing against homosexuality at all, it's just that Rorschach... well, you know his feelings at the moment. Forgive me for making Daniel weak in this chapter, he will be more macho in the next! Poor guy just has so much emotional crap thrown at him you just want to hug him :)_

_The next chapter will probably take as long as this one, but I will do all that I can to update before spring break the week after next._

_Remember: Reviews make the world a happy place!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey, I'm back. Feel free to tell me how much you hate it that I didn't update when I said I would, because I feel really bad about that. When did I last plan to update? Spring Break? Yeah... well, I haven't given up hope on this story. It's just that things are rather hectic right now, and the whole creative thought process has slowed considerably since the movie came out. But don't worry, I will update. It just might take a long time to do so, as much as I hate to say it._

_Don't own Watchmen. But I own the Director's Cut DVD. And Rorschach is still standing next to my alarm clock, along with Snake Eyes and Hellboy. ;)_

* * *

"... reports are still coming in on the damage done to the city in light of this snow storm, a storm of a caliber that the citizens have never witnessed in their entire lives-"

"It seems that even inhuman vigilantes can't stand the cold, as there have been no signs of the ink blotted incarcerator Rorschach since the snow began to fall-"

"Does this blizzard signify an end to vigilantism? Join us for a special report on the history of crimefighting at ei-" With a satisfying click Daniel Dreiberg turned off the TV, not wanting to hear the news that was undoubtedly wrong. This was not the worst snow storm he had ever seen in his entire life, not by a long shot, and the 'ink blotted incarcerator' was not dead, unless Rorschach had suddenly died while watching the news report, which was unlikely. Although Dan hadn't heard a noise from the back bedroom since he last checked in... it was all he could do to keep himself from barging in and demanding that the other man be sociable. If it had been anyone else he might have dragged his patient out into the living room. If it had been anyone else, Dan mused, he would've taken them to the hospital and stayed out of this whole mess. If it had been anyone else he wouldn't be still caught up in a turmoil every time he thought of who was in his bed. If it had been anyone else...

Daniel let himself sink back into the couch, trying to get distracted by staring at the bland ceiling. This situation would be terribly amusing if it had happened to, say, the Comedian and Ozymandias. But that was because the two men certainly didn't have a history like- no. He had to stop thinking about that before it went too far. Rorschach was finally recovering, finally regaining trust, even if it wasn't readily apparent by looking at the swirling mask that constantly reminded him that he would never come close to seeing what was under the mask as close as he had been a few nights ago.

It was like the incident (if it could be called that) had been etched into his memory. Dan could still see the dark wood of the bathroom door in front of him, feel the cool doorknob beneath his fingertips as he slowly opened the door. He had tried to convince himself that he had opened the door to make sure that the vigilante hadn't drowned, that he was only concerned for the welfare of his patient, but he could not lie to himself about this. Dan could not lie and say that he had not been expecting to see Rorschach standing there with his mask lying on the floor, the face behind the inkblots painfully reflected in the fogged up mirror.

The red hair had been a startling surprise, but the biggest surprise had been the fact that Rorschach, one who wouldn't hesitate to silence someone who made unsavory comments about his masked persona, did not pummel Dan like expected. In fact, the anger that gave way to silent resignation was more disturbing than the anticipated violence. Daniel hadn't had a full conversation with Rorschach since that night, only a few curt exchanges during bandage changes. The physical wound was healing as well as it could, but it still kept Rorschach confined to the house. Mentally... well, it was impossible to say just what was going on under the ever present mask, but Dan would be willing to risk it and say that things were... okay. Just okay.

And that was how things were going to have to be until both were ready to take it a step further, wherever that may be. Dan took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, leaning forward to stretch his back. How long had he been watching the news? Too long. He'd better check on Rorschach again, just to make sure that the news was wrong. With a sigh he replaced his glasses and stood, turning towards the doorway-

Only to nearly leap out of his skin to find Rorschach standing in the doorway, slumped posture hardly betraying his presence in the homely room.

"Jesus, Rorschach. How long have you been standing there?" Dan's heart regained it's normal rhythm as he ran a nervous hand through his already ravaged hair.

"Long enough. Saw the reports." If he was disappointed with the lack of despair over his disappearance Rorschach was keeping it to himself.

"Uh, yeah. It's not as bad out there as they say it is. In fact..." Dan pulled back the curtain he had kept drawn over the windows and peered outside, momentarily blinded by the shockingly white landscape. "It's stopped."

"Hurm. Can't trust them even to describe what's outside their windows." Rorschach muttered, moving over to the couch. Daniel thought he was about to sit down, but instead he continued past to the window, hesitating just of reach. Ah. So Rorschach was well enough to stand being in the same room with him, but not enough to be in the same breathing space. A flicker of anger surged inside of Daniel. What was wrong with him? If it had been anyone else things would have smoothed over by now, but Rorschach was stubbornly focused on staying just on the boundaries of being aloof and out of range.

From his posture Daniel could tell that Rorschach was tired, possibly exhausted, but also refusing to rest like he should have been doing. The hand casually resting on the windowsill was supporting his slim frame, and the mask was bunched up in the back, revealing reddened skin where he had been relentlessly massaging the back of his neck. The pain was back, Dan knew, but Rorschach had stopped taking the medicine after almost having his identity exposed. Dan wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that it basically knocked the man out after each dose, leaving him vulnerable, or it was a simple avoidance of becoming addicted. Either way, Rorschach was in pain and there was nothing Daniel could do about it if he didn't want to destroy any hope of rebuilding a trust between them.

Rorschach raised his hand to his neck again, kneading the tense muscles in a vain attempt to rid himself of his headache. It would have been easier to have Daniel rub his shoulders, but that was entirely out of the question. The idea of having his ex partner's hands on his exposed skin made him shiver, and not entirely out of revulsion. He looked up to see Daniel staring at him, barely bothering to hide his concern, and quickly lowered his arm, forcing the pain to the back of his mind until he could deal with it later.

Both stood there, staring for a long time, neither wanting to break the uneasy silence that had fallen between the two. Daniel could not tell what it was that Rorschach was seeing, but whatever it was made the masked man turn away and sit heavily on the couch.

"Low on food." Dan almost didn't catch what Rorschach had said, his voice was so low and quiet.

"Oh. Uh, well, there might be something down in the basement. I'll take a look." Not that he actually thought there was anything hidden around Archie, but the sudden unease that had settled in the room was almost suffocating, and he had to get out before he lost it.

Rorschach nodded, staring at the quiet television as if it had more lies to tell him. Not that the newsstands were that much better, but at least it was tangible. He could pick it up and read it, and no matter how many times he went back to read the facts it would still be the same. The words would not have changed within the issue, even if they were wrong. If the publishers were to lie, at least it was in a form that the world could pick up and burn, instead of the verbal garbage that poured from the television sets. Daniel may have let himself become polluted by a form of information that could not be disposed of, but not Rorschach. Not even Kovacs would willingly watch the news before the days of Rorschach-

There it was again. Walter Kovacs. A dead man, come back to haunt him. This was ridiculous. Obviously he was more affected by this whole ordeal than he thought, and being around Daniel Dreiberg was not helping the healing process. Carefully he put a hand on his abdomen, mindful of the meticulously wrapped bandages. Yes, Dreiberg was definitely the cause for this disturbing resurfacing of a past reality, and Rorschach was not going to allow it to go any further. But he could not escape the confines of his situation, as he couldn't even leave the house. Despite his superhuman ability to survive the worst the city had to offer, he was still trapped inside simply because of snow. If he could leave he would, but he knew that he would die if he went outside like this. It still didn't stop the temptation though....

Reflexively Rorschach brought his hands up to his face, making sure that he felt the material that had become his second skin. It was still there. Still providing a barrier to the weaknesses of mankind. He was safe from it, as long as that face was staring back at him in the mirror and not Kovacs. Temptation could not touch Rorschach as long as he kept his face.

"Well, I've looked, and there's not much down there. If I didn't know better I would say that Archie's been stealing some food for the winter." Daniel's overly cheerful voice interrupted Rorschach's grim musings, preceding his rather dusty reappearance into the living room.

"I'll have to go out and see if any of the stores are open. Unless you want to be eating cold beans until you recover." The silence that instantly pervaded the room made Dan falter in his stored up confidence. Rorschach was not looking at him, but his lack of a response said enough for Dan to realize that he had crossed yet another line. Who was he to know what Rorschach's life was like outside of crimefighting? Hell, did Rorschach even have a life outside of the one that they had once shared? From the looks of it, no. There wasn't. Whoever owned the face under the mask was gone, replaced with this... thing. He didn't know what to think of it any more: he had to leave before it became too much.

"I'll be back soon. Try not to move around too much, okay?" Silence. Dan shrugged on his coat, wiped off his glasses on his scarf, and opened the door to the freezing air.

"Daniel?" Rorschach's voice made him pause.

"Yes?" Dan turned slightly to see Rorschach standing in the hallway only a few feet behind him.

"Be careful." With those words Rorschach leaned forward slightly, as if about to take a step closer to the heavily garbed friend, but did not move closer.

Dan allowed himself a small smile before nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

It was cold out, but not painfully so. The snow was a beautiful unblemished white, cleansing the world with a suffocating surface that threatened to swallow up all the littered the streets. Those that lived in the city came to either tolerate or enjoy the snowfall, but only when it suited their means and didn't hamper their busy lifestyles. Dan enjoyed sitting back in a comfy chair with a cup of cocoa and watching the snow drift down from the grey skies, but didn't mind the occasional venture out into the frozen lands beyond his doorstep. Unfortunately, this excursion was not for fun.

With a loud sigh Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill, trudging towards the nearest store. It wasn't too difficult to make his way through the snow, but he took his time nonetheless. His mind needed time to wander, and with each step his stress faded into the cool air. It was hard to believe that a single kiss could cause such a tense situation. Maybe it was because it was Rorschach he had done this to. If it had been anyone else, would they had been able to laugh it off and get over it? He couldn't help but feel guilty about putting Rorschach in this situation, but he also knew that he couldn't squash the reason why he had done so in the first place. The longer he tried to deny it, the worse it would be for him later.

What would it be like, he wondered, to have everything go right and suddenly find Rorschach accepting of this? Daniel knew that it was ridiculous to think this way, but it was also too much of an irresistible fantasy to set aside. If only Rorschach would take off the mask and let Dan look into his real eyes instead of that maddening swirl of ink. They could relive the good old days while repairing Archie or go running across the rooftops in their costumes, making the night belong to them once again. Then, when they returned home, they could share a full dinner and curl up on the couch, melting the days away with their combined passions. It would be heaven. It would be... ridiculous.

Now he was just getting mushy and too overly sentimental. He really needed to stop watching sappy romantic TV programs. But he felt much better. He couldn't help but smile as he entered the store and bought enough food to last them a few days (although none of the food available could constitute as having the potential to be a romantic dinner), and when he went back outside he was able to face the cold wasteland outside with a better outlook. It was surprising to see so many people out braving the snow, but then again, these were the toughest people in the toughest city. Or so tourists said.

As Dan headed back to his house, parcels in hand, he paused at an intersection and looked down the street. Hollis Mason's house was nearby, close enough for a detour. If he hurried he could check in on the older hero before being away from Rorschach for too long. It would be cutting it close... but it wasn't as if Rorschach would be missing him at all. The man had made that apparent enough over the past few days, but still... he hated to leave his friend alone and injured. If friend was the appropriate term.

All this aside, Daniel wanted to see Hollis, if to reassure himself that his old friend was doing alright. Rorschach would be fine for the ten minutes it took to say hello, he was sure of it. Shrugging the paper bags higher into his arms, Dan labored up the slippery steps to the front door, trying not to drop the bag full of first aid supplies over the railing. The door opened slowly at first, as if to ward out the cold as much as possible, but as soon as the older Nite Owl saw the younger one shivering on his doorstep the door was thrown open all the way.

"Danny! What are you doing out here? Come in before you freeze to death." Hollis Mason stepped aside to let Daniel in, not missing the packages in the younger man's arms. "You didn't have to bring me anything, I'm fine for the winter."

"What? Oh, uh, no, Hollis. These are for me." Dan took off his fogged up glasses and wiped them off on his sleeve, setting his bags on the floor next to the door.

Hollis raised his eyebrows at the painkillers and bandages that bunched out of the top of paper bag. "Back in the game, are we? You didn't mention that you were thinking of taking up the cowl again."

Dan shook his head. "I didn't. I'm not. Those are for a... a friend." He faltered on the term, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"A friend? Everything alright?"

"Yes. Nothing I can't handle." Dan gave him a timid smile, pushing the bandages down into the bag.

"Alright. But I can tell that something's going on with you and your 'friend'. I don't want to see your body on the news. Be a bad way to go out after all these years." Hollis settled back into a chair, giving Phantom a friendly pat on the head.

"I'm not the one I'm worried about." Daniel muttered, sitting down but keeping his coat on. "I can't stay for long, but I just wanted to see how you were holding up in this storm."

"I'm fine. Even a bad storm can't keep our kind down, right?" Seeing the strained smile that remark got Hollis leaned forward and looked Dan in the eyes. "I can tell that you've got your mind on someone other than me. Who is she?"

"She? Uh, I don't know what you mean, Hollis. There's nobody. No girl." Daniel's face turned red, and he took his glasses in his hands and polished them again. "I would tell you if there was... if there was somebody. Something."

"Okay, take it easy. I didn't mean to pry. But you're not fooling anybody. Just be careful. It takes a special kind of someone to be with, if you get my meaning." Hollis glanced at the picture of the Minutemen, eyes lingering on the smiling figures before turning back to the man across from him.

"I know. It's... it's been more apparent lately." Dan replaced his glasses and stood, wrapping his scarf back around his throat. "I'd better get back to the house before I'm missed."

Hollis stood and put a comforting hand on Dan's shoulder. "Whatever's going on, Danny, you'll be fine. You've got a good head on those shoulders."

"Thanks, Hollis. I appreciate that." Carefully he arranged the bags in his arms and headed back out into the cold, turning back to look at his old idol. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"Don't worry about me. Just be careful getting home. Don't want to lose you before Christmas." Hollis watched Daniel slowly step down the stairs, not closing the door until the younger man was out of sight. Something was going on with the second Nite Owl, something that was a cause for worry. If it was an immediate danger he hoped that Danny wouldn't hesitate to call him for help. Even though he wasn't as young as he used to be Hollis Mason still had the strength where it counted. He just hoped that Danny would remember that he had that strength too when it mattered.

The skies were growing dark by the time Daniel made it to his street, his purchases seeming to weigh a ton. Not too long ago he could have run all around the city and still have energy to spare, but recently he felt like he was growing slower. Hanging up the cowl and cape had left him without an additional form of exercise, and he painfully knew that he was going out of shape. But no matter. He was almost home. Only a few more houses to go....

Suddenly, he stopped. Something was wrong. Placing the packages into a snowdrift, Daniel crept closer to the front door, heart sinking as he found it ajar. Rorschach had left, then. Just when it seemed as if things were going to get better. With a sigh he turned to pick up his bags, only to whirl around as a loud scream tore through the house and shrieked into the air. Something crashed as another person yelled in terror, followed by a grunt of pain.

Dan couldn't believe it. Someone had broken into his house while he had gone, and instead of finding valuable loot inside, they found Rorschach. Daniel didn't know who to feel sorry for as he ran inside: either Rorschach for having to deal with the burglar while injured and alone, or the burglar for suddenly finding himself alone with a pissed off Rorschach. Either way, this was not going to end well.

* * *

_Well, there you go. I considered splitting this up into two chapters, but I figured I owed it to you to make it just one long update. :)_

_Like I always say, I will try to update as soon as possible, but summer has been crazy for me. Your reviews did motivate me to update sooner though, and for that I really appreciate having you guys read this story. Oh, and I'm glad that you are enjoying it too._

_If you really hate me for leaving the chapter at this, feel free to tell me so in the most creative way possible. Otherwise, if you are going to review, let me know what you think!  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_Holy smokes, I'm updating again! Yeah, I know it's been a lot longer than I said it would... so I'm sorry. Again. Things are just... well, it's life. That's all the explanation I got._

_Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this and double thanks to you reviewers out there. It's nice to know that people are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. This chapter especially was fun to write, even if it did take me forever to update._

_I don't own these guys (obviously) so don't sue me. The End.  
_

* * *

As soon as the door clicked closed, shutting out the white wonderland, Rorschach sank into the couch, closing his eyes to the dim glow of the television. Daniel had left it on the news, most likely to provide some artificial company in his absence. If it weren't such an effort at the moment Rorschach would have turned it off; he had no need for pitiful background noise, it clouded his mind, made it difficult to concentrate on the important matters at hand, made it that much easier to get lost in the world that he fought tooth and nail to keep under control. Not that you could keep a world of chaos in order, but you could make an effort when no one else would....

The news reporter was droning on about the weather, warning everyone to stay inside until the streets were clear again. Rorchach bit back an uncharacteristic sigh of defeat. To think that all that kept him from leaving this house was frozen water! Snow had never given him problems before, but with his current injuries it was a serious hazard for him to exert himself, let alone consider abandoning the hospitality of his ex partner and hightailing it out of there.

But then again... there was that feeling, the feeling that by leaving here, he would be leaving something important behind, something that could not afford to be lost. What was it that caused his stomach to squirm every time his mind flashed back to seeing Daniel's startled face in the mirror, knowing that the man he had trusted his life with had come so close to discovering his secret? Rorschach would say it was unpleasant, but Walter would know that it wasn't entirely true. Some part of him had possibly wanted Daniel to know-

No, he would not think of that. As soon as he could stand for longer than a handful of minutes without wanting to break down he would leave and never come back. Daniel had done enough to him to ensure complete abandonment, and like before Rorschach would not look back. Whatever was left of Walter would be left behind in this house, with Rorschach emerging from the depths and extracting overdue justice on the streets he had been momentarily forced to leave behind.

Silently he settled back into the soft confines of the couch, hands clenching at the sleeves of the old pajamas Dan had insisted he wore. Not that he would admit it, but he was grateful for the warmth and comfort. Since he had stopped taking the medication every movement was a challenge, and a wrong turn caused nearly unbearable pain that struggled to break through his carefully drawn composure. But Rorschach could not afford to break down, not anymore. The time for weakness had passed, he had spent enough time sniveling under the covers, too many hours being sick, too many years hurting. Now he had to heal his body and mind and go back to what he was compelled to do, no matter what anyone else thought about it.

But first... he had to rest a moment. Wearily he ghosted fingers over his face, making certain the mask concealed his features yet again before allowing his eyes to close.

* * *

He did not dream, but the darkness of sleep refused to give him up so easily as he struggled to come back to consciousness. Confusion was bypassed entirely as all of his senses went to high alert, old reflexes resurfacing in an instant. Something was wrong, that he knew, and before he could consciously process anything he was up in a defensive stance, scanning the room for what had grabbed his attention.

It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet of someone trying very hard to be stealthy but failing spectacularly. Rorschach didn't need to have years of vigilantism under his belt to pick out the heavy footsteps of what seemed to be more than one person entering the hallway, muttering half assed plans to each other as they picked out their prizes. Apparently they were not aware that the house was still occupied, and immediately Rorschach silently turned off the television, taking up position next to the doorway where the light switch was.

Despite the fact that these were most likely normal idiotic burglars, Rorschach could not afford to be seen. Too many questions could arise from the fact that he was hiding out in Daniel Dreiberg's house, too many clues that could reveal that maybe there was a past relationship between the quiet, homely man who lived there and a well known and feared vigilante. These two vermin might be too stupid to notice a connection, but there were others who could piece it all together and figure it out. And, despite all that had happened since the unfortunate grappling gun incident, Rorschach couldn't betray Nite Owl's identity. He wouldn't.

The two intruders were taking their sweet time rummaging through the kitchen, but Rorschach knew it was only a matter of seconds before they made their way to the living room. No matter the operation, every robber acted the same, and it was all a matter of learning the patterns. Unfortunately it was his appearance that made Rorschach so intimidating, and that would not be available for use if he was to keep invisible. Silently he glanced around for anything he could use to conceal his identity, but, since there was nothing in sight, he settled for flicking off the light switch and waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Needless to say, he did not have to wait long. The first man stepped into the room, flashlight in hand, looking first to the left like the parents taught their children to cross the street. Rorschach, not wasting time, tackled him from the right, delivering a swift blow to the head with a handy picture frame from a nearby table and kicking the flashlight under the couch where it could not be easily grabbed. It was a swift maneuver, defeating the foe within seconds, but those few seconds took their toll.

Before he could stop himself he was on his knees next to the body of his victim, one hand pressed firmly on his burning wound. Everything was spinning furiously around him and the floor beneath him was tilting dangerously. Without waiting for his mind to catch up to the situation, his body shuddered and toppled over, unconsciousness claiming him instantly.

* * *

Immediately Rorschach was awake again, mind screaming at him to get up and go back into the fight that was waiting for him. He couldn't have fainted for more than a few seconds, a minute at the most, but it felt like he had been out for an eternity. The picture frame dug uncomfortably into his back as he rolled over, fighting to ignore the complaints from his damaged abdomen. Getting to his knees was an effort, and rising to his feet was nearly impossible, but the notion that there was someone else still in the house, someone who wasn't Daniel, made him stand and drift over to the doorway again.

A chilling breeze washed over him and dimly he knew that the front door was open. The accomplice could have fled once realizing that their partner was incapacitated, but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck told him otherwise. The vermin was still lurking in the house somewhere, and it was only a matter of time before Rorschach won the game of cat and mouse.

Keeping one hand on the doorframe and another clutching the bloodied picture frame Rorschach stepped into the hall, bracing himself against the bitter cold that tore through his borrowed pajamas. His bare feet made hardly a sound on the cold wooden floors as he prowled around the staircase, keeping his masked face to the area at large, eyes continuously searching. Was the burglar upstairs? Secretly he hoped not, since the prospect of climbing up the stairs was not something he considered being beneficial at the mome-

Something smashed into Rorschach from behind, the pain ripping through his already aggravated wound and causing a scream of pain to escape from under the mask. Before he could properly deal with the pain his instincts took over once again, driving the picture frame into the burglar's nose with a sickening crunch seconds before grabbing the intruder and hurling the man into the kitchen. The yell of terror following the satisfying crash was all Rorschach needed to know that his victim was still alive, and with a grunt of pain he pulled himself together and raced into the kitchen, intending to end this before any one else decided to step in and cause more trouble.

The burglar was groaning among the wreckage of what had once been Daniel's kitchen table, a sharp dark form in the even darker kitchen. Not even bothering to turn on the lights Rorschach stood over the beaten form, picking up a large chunk of the table and painfully raising it high to put an end to the intrusion once and for all. His victim said nothing, only breathed painfully as the end came hurtling down-

Yet again someone smashed into Rorschach from behind, causing all the air to leave his lungs for a second time as he was carried across the kitchen and into the cupboards with a crash. Fury brought him to his feet almost instantly, empty hands clenching into fists. There was a third person in the room, a third intruder, and before he could react they had taken a hold of shoulders, blindly throwing him into the living room. Both were fighting in the dark, both weren't entirely certain of their opponent, and neither were landing all of their punches.

Rorschach, despite the injuries that forced him to resort to the most basic of instincts, dodged the majority of the punches his attacker threw at him, but he could not focus nor see clearly enough to cause a significant amount of damage. The third intruder was strong, almost unbelievably so, and had the movements of a well trained fighter. It would take time to wear him down, time that Rorschach knew he could not afford, not with the amount of energy he had expended on the other two accomplices.

He could only hope that Daniel would come back before he found his house ransacked and full of bodies.

Suddenly Rorschach was up against the television, and without a second's thought he fell the to floor, the attacker's fist smashing the glass with a fizzling spark. The man didn't even acknowledge the pain before picking up Rorschach yet again and heaving him against the wall, causing the curtains to fall away from the window. The room was a blur once more, and finally he was on his back on the carpet, held down by the one who would finally have the privilege of killing Rorschach once and for all.

The silhouette of the other man was suddenly illuminated through the brief amount of light that peeked through the window, and with a cold surge in his stomach Rorschach realized that he wasn't facing a shadowy attacker after all.

It was Daniel, poised over his battered and bleeding form, a red fist pulled back to put an end to who was mistakenly thought to be an enemy.

Silently they stared at each other, breathing heavily, neither able to say a word.

The slowly, almost unbearably so, Daniel let his fist fall loosely to his side as he clambered off his beaten patient, horrified at what he had come so close to doing. Rorschach let out a small sigh of what seemed to be relief, letting his head loll to the side as the recent excursions took their toll, claiming him into the darkness once more as Dan helplessly looked on among the wreckage they had caused in their confusion.

* * *

_Well, there you go. I updated! Hopefully you find this chapter enjoyable, although it wasn't all that pleasant (despite the fact that Rorschach was fighting in his pajamas, which I find hilarious)._

_Review, tell me what you think, and if you were taking bets on what was going to happen, I hope that at least someone came out the winner, since I don't think either Dan or Rorschach feel exactly triumphant at the moment, given the situation they have found themselves in._

_I'll try to update sooner rather than later, just know that I haven't given up on this story, so it will not be abandoned! Have a fantastic holiday!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Heheh, so funny story. I was browsing fanfiction on here and came across a Watchmen fic that I really liked. I read the whole thing and came to this cliffhanger that SUCKED. So in my rage I yelled "Why the hell hasn't the author updated?" and checked to see who it was so I could properly express my distaste. Guess who it was? Yeah, it was me. I read my own story without realizing it and wanted to send myself an angry review insisting that I update. Isn't that pathetic? _

_On the other hand, it led me to update, didn't it? _

_Anyways, here's the next chapter. I hope there are still some of you out there in cyberspace who are interested in it, because I sure am!_

_Disclaimer: Why do we need these if I already established that I don't own these guys? Whatever..._

* * *

Once again Daniel Dreiberg found himself wondering why he bothered with it all. No matter what he did, all he could ever hope to receive was the pain and the blood and the sadness that came with knowing that the one you wanted to help more than anyone else would only end up being the one who hurt the most.

As he sat there on the floor among the wreckage of his living room, Daniel wondered what would have happened if he had simply left Rorschach in the alley. He wasn't a hero anymore, he shouldn't have been forced to take up the mantle of the protector just to save a man that had become more of a mask than a human. It was all wrong, and Daniel just wanted to know when he could wake up from it all and go back to being normal.

But he couldn't wake up. Not while Rorschach was lying in his bed, knocked back into oblivion by his own bare fists. It wasn't his fault he had mistaken the masked vigilante for an intruder, but boy did he feel like he messed up. Daniel had the undeniable urge to call up someone, anyone, and have them take the responsibility for what he had done. But his phone had been smashed to pieces in the skirmish, and not one would be able to handle Rorschach as a patient. Hell, he could hardly handle Rorschach and they had been partners for years.

What had happened over the years that could make him act like this? Daniel had hung up the cape and the cowl, retired along with the other masks, and abandoned Rorschach to the streets. He had felt horrible at the time and felt extremely guilty now, but it had been time. Rorschach couldn't see that it was time for Nite Owl to disappear and become just a memory in their minds, a memento of what could be ironically called the 'happier days'.

Sure, being just plain old Daniel Dreiberg could be boring at times, but at least he got to sleep at night and didn't wake up in the morning with bruises and blood under his fingernails. He didn't have the dreams anymore where he and Rorschach flew over a city bathed in blood and fought tooth and nail to rise up over the growing piles of bodies, only to reach the top and realize that, after it was all said and done, it was just the two of them left in the world.

He had both loathed and loved those dreams.

Hollis had understood to a certain degree, and yet he would never understand completely. The first Nite Owl hadn't been forced to retire in his prime, hadn't been locked down by a government imposed act. Hollis had been able to live out his dreams and was not haunted by the glory days of who he had once been.

The first Nite Owl also didn't have a slightly psychotic ex-partner on his mind every day of the year since retirement. Or, if he had, Hollis did not speak about it. There was no ignoring the guilt that lingered in the back of his mind ever since he told Rorschach he would be facing the world alone from now on. And although he tried not to think about it, that irritatingly hypnotic face of black and white haunted him daily.

And now look where he was. Daniel Dreiberg, once the powerful Nite Owl, was reduced to a broken man sniveling among the wreckage of his past. He had tried to help Rorschach, sure, but was it really because his partner needed it? Or was it because he needed it?

With a groan Daniel rested his head in his hands, trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to skip a beat when he remembered the way Rorschach felt in his arms. So cliché, so... school-boyish, and yet he could not stop remembering what had happened. Would he have been so daringly stupid if he was still Nite Owl?

"Just... just make it stop." Daniel muttered, forcing himself to start cleaning up. "It was a bad idea. It's over and done with."

What a lie. How could he keep lying to himself? He knew that the second he ventured into that bedroom he would thrown back into the painful past and the lingering hope that stained the future.

Cleaning up wasn't much of a chore. Most of the furniture could be repaired or replaced, and what was still stable could be moved to cover the bloodstained carpet until he could get it cleaned. Rorschach really did a number on the burglars, which wasn't very surprising, but he was worried about leaving the vigilante alone again, even if it would only be for an hour to go get groceries or check on Hollis.

Maybe he could let Hollis in on this secret? The elder crimefighter would have some ideas, he was sure of it, and could be certainly trusted to keep quiet about the whole thing until Rorschach was better. Daniel could keep his own mouth shut about their recent change in relationship, while Rorschach would most likely try to ignore the whole chain of events and pretend that nothing happened.

Quickly he hauled the bodies to the basement, intending to dispose of them somewhere farther along in the sewers when he had a moment. Not that he had much experience doing so, since he tended to keep his criminals alive for the authorities, but with Rorschach's certain... violent tendencies he had to, at least for this one time, put his own morals aside to keep them both safe. Hopefully the dead men would not be missed and Daniel would never have to worry about something like this again.

After it was all said and done, Daniel found himself in the bedroom again. He hardly dared to breathe as he watched Rorschach sleep, looking more peaceful than ever.

"Kind of funny how much it took for you to finally get some rest, isn't it?" Daniel said softly, taking a seat next to the bed. "And now I just want you to wake up."

Rorschach responded with steady breathing, edging on a light snore. Daniel continued, safely assured that the other man was out cold.

"I'm... I'm sorry that I hurt you like that. In a lot of ways I think I deserved to take the punishment you did. I didn't realize how much you meant to me." Great, now he was starting to sound like those guys in the bad romance movies that aired on cable TV.

"Uh... I mean that I appreciate you, and I don't want to have to say goodbye again... aw hell, this isn't coming out right at all." With a sigh he sat back in his chair and wondered what the hell he was doing. It wasn't as if Rorschach could hear him, so why was he even speaking?

Tentatively he reached out over the bedspread and inched his fingers over to Rorschach's, noting the bruises and old scars. Night after night of punching criminals in the face would definitely leave noticeable scars, both on the inside and out.

Then, in a burst of recklessness, he closed the gap between their hands. Rorschach didn't move.

This would have to be the last time he did this, Daniel realized, or else the questions and longing would just drive him crazy. They weren't meant for each other. Hell, he doubted that anyone would be able (or crazy enough) to handle Rorschach in any capacity; he was just too intense for normal people. Daniel, on the other hand, could slip into normalcy and find someone in the world to be with, pushing the superhero persona into the dark recesses of his mind and leave it there for good. Rorschach couldn't do that.

But...

There was always that pain, that doubt of actions, that kept Daniel from letting go. He couldn't leave Rorschach behind as much as he could leave the Nite Owl uniform in the closet: they were both a part of him that he could not take away. In this screwed up world it was clear that while they were both as messed up as human beings could get, at the end of it all they had was each other. There was a reason why they both became crimefighters, why they both scoured the streets in the dead of night to try and make a difference. That drive brought them together and would keep them together no matter how much either man protested. Even if Rorschach didn't see that, Daniel did, and for the time being that was good enough for him.

Rorschach's fingers twitched in his sleep, closing briefly on Daniel's before relaxing again. Hopefully his recovery wouldn't take as long as feared. There was something about the masked vigilante that defied normal human limits on any given day, and Daniel prayed that it also applied to healing from grievous wounds quicker than most.

After a while of watching his partner Daniel finally let out a sigh and let his fingers uncurl from Rorschach's hand. Might as well start the motions towards normalcy and hope that by acting as if he didn't mean to cause more harm to the man than good, Rorschach would understand and not kill him when he woke up. He stood and made his way across the darkened room, not bothering to look back.

"Daniel." The interrupting voice was so soft Daniel almost didn't hear it.

"Yes, Rorschach?"

"Don't go." It was only two words, but something in his voice made Daniel freeze and wonder who it was that was speaking from under the mask. Clearly this wasn't Rorschach. The Rorschach he knew wouldn't be speaking to him after what had transpired over the past few days.

"What?" Daniel asked, turning back around.

"Don't... leave. Want you here." Rorschach barely breathed the words, but Daniel was over at his side, incredulously staring down at the mask as if he could pick up some sort of visual cue as to what was going on.

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to." Dan took a seat again, trying not to invade his personal space and yet wanting to get closer with every passing moment.

A heartbeat. Rorschach rolled over onto his side, facing Dan. "Good."

And for the first time in days Daniel felt himself smile.

* * *

_Wow. Sorry there isn't much action in this scene, but when one vigilante is having a mental crisis and the other is recovering from being pummeled by his friend, there isn't a lot going on outside of their own minds._

_And what the heck is Rorschach doing? Could he be actually... forgiving Dan to some degree? What?_

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think! Questions, comments, fangirl (and boy) rants, I welcome them! I'm going to stop yelling now and will try to update in the near future! _


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